No greater team than family
by MarauderRiss88
Summary: It's common knowledge that the team at the BAU equates to family. When unwitting mistakes are made, what will it take to make Spencer Reid believe he is part of that family too? What happens when a mysterious new case sheds shocking light on Reid's past? Bodies are dropping as 2 teams engage in silent tug-of-war for the lovable genius they both want back. AU, Slash, rated T for now
1. Of hurting and mystery callers

_No greater team than a family_

Disclaimer: *Sighs* I _wish_ these gorgeous guys remotely belonged to me.

A/N: Whew, it's been a while since I've been here! Well, this is the new work I was tentatively exploring…I'm very two-minded about it, but nonetheless, I'm excited to see where this will take me! Please review, as I'd love to see if I should probably just quit while I'm (relatively, kinda, sorta) ahead! Lol!

NOTE! This is an AU story.

Hope y'all enjoy!

~::~::~::~

" _Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family…whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one." –Jane Howard_

~::~::~::~

 _ **Morgan POV**_

There were few joys greater in life than taking the mickey out of one Spencer Reid.

SSA Derek Morgan grinned at his favorite genius, enjoying the fierce blush that painted his alabaster skin as Elle Greenway continued the teasing that he so ruthlessly started. To his credit, the kid took every jibe in good spirit, even getting so comfortable around them as to retaliate, and he would never admit to it, but Derek simply basked in the playful banter they had between them. It was something special, coming from the prodigy of Einstein, and Morgan took great pride in being the one to bring out that side to Reid that he normally kept hidden under multiple layers of maturity.

"What is it this time?" JJ's voice drifted over to the bull pen. The blue eyed blond shot Reid a pitying but affectionate look, ruffling his hair as was often customary of her.

"My lack of a romantic interest," Reid informed her, smiling lightly through his embarrassment, and Jennifer turned a stern look on Morgan and Elle.

"Stop harassing him," she chided them, almost indulgently.

Not one to let a perfectly good opportunity to tease go to waste, Morgan immediately pouted. "Why do you always take Reid's side?" he asked mock petulantly.

JJ smirked at him. "Why do _you and Elle_ continuously gang up on Spence?" she retorted quickly, clearly not expecting an answer.

"Because Reid's an outsider and Morgan and I have known each other for years," Elle blurted unthinkingly.

The atmosphere in the bull pen instantly dropped ten degrees.

JJ's eyes shot to the other agent's, not quite masking the shock in her bluer than blue eyes. Morgan was filled with equal parts anger and disbelief too, and even Elle couldn't seem to believe the words had come from her mouth.

The worst reaction came from Spencer; absolutely _nothing._

Not outwardly, at least. The minute jerk of his shoulders, as though he'd taken a physical hit, the slump in his posture and the hurt in his wide brown eyes, were more than enough of a reaction for Morgan.

They always teased unthinkingly, but Elle had crossed an invisible line that time. Though he knew her last intention was to hurt the genius, Morgan was intensely irritated at her lack of a mental filter; he'd spent all this time trying to coax Reid out of his shell, convince him that he was part of this team and this family, and Elle had just quite possibly destroyed all that progress. She looked stricken at her own callous remark, and JJ looked just about ready to take off both their heads.

Before she could, however, Reid's ringing phone suddenly interrupted them.

"Hello?" Spencer answered his phone softly, the pain even evident in his voice. JJ shot them both daggers as Spencer kept his eyes on the floor. However, it wasn't JJ's wrath he was paying attention to, and maybe if he had been, he would have missed what happened next.

Whoever was on the other end of that call, obviously had some effect on the young doctor. Reid immediately straightened, almost as though he were conditioned to do it, and after listening to the other person speak for several moments, Spencer's entire face paled dramatically. His skin was so porcelain to begin with that it seemed unlikely he could get paler, but the genius's face was positively ashen but the time he got off the phone. His hands were shaking slightly, and before Morgan could ask if he was okay, the kid stood up.

On legs that were about as steady as a new-born colt's, Reid gathered his stuff quickly, shoving them into his messenger bag without explanation.

"Spence, wait, don't…" JJ tried to speak, but she was cut off by Hotch's voice, drifting over to them from his office.

"Reid." They all turned to look at Hotchner, and it didn't take a profiler to figure out that the man had seen the entire interaction. Stern eyes roved over Morgan and Elle, before they softened and turned to their youngest agent. "Would you come see me in my office for a minute?"

Shooting their superior a grateful look, Spencer grabbed his stuff and made a bee-line for Hotch's office. As soon as the door closed, JJ laced into them.

"What were you _thinking_ , how could you even say that to him?!" she snapped, glaring icily. "Teasing is one thing, but you two have taken it _too_ far this time."

"I didn't _think_ ," Elle mumbled, to her credit, still looking horrified with herself. "I didn't mean to hurt him, I would have never…"

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter," JJ stopped her with an annoyed huff. "You did it." She turned her angry blue eyes to Morgan, who was still trying to figure out what had happened with that phone call to make his Pretty Boy lose his cool like that. " _You_! _Fix_ this!" the blond agent snapped out before storming away, presumably to her own office.

Elle bit her lip, glancing at him half hopefully, and Derek knew she wanted to know precisely how they were going to go about fixing this one. Morgan racked his brain, coming up empty.

They had really put their foot in it this time.

###

 _ **Reid POV**_

Dr. Spencer Reid, though he would constantly try to argue the point, was a certifiable genius. Between his qualifications- _plural_ \- his eidetic memory, and his ability to read 20000 words a minute, nothing much in the way of logic got past him. Sure, he often got confused when Elle was being sarcastic or when Garcia was joking around, but logic? Logic was his best friend since he was a child.

Which was why it was difficult to fight with the logic presented to him; the irrefutable fact that he was an outsider to the BAU. No matter what they'd been through since he'd been here, he was still obviously not part of the team, and Spencer wasn't going to pretend that the knowledge didn't hurt him. He'd come to the BAU for this reason entirely; because he'd heard stories of how the team was more of a family, and he'd ached for that sort of a working relationship ever since he was a lonely child getting bullied by everyone who correctly thought of him as different. He ached for what he'd thought he'd found in...

He jerked from his thoughts as his phone rang. He answered it numbly, not even bothering to check the caller ID.

How he wished he had thought to check the ID. _Oh, Hindsight, what a cruel mistress you can be…_

The first sound out of the caller's mouth, the first syllable reaching Reid's ear of that ever distinctive, gruff voice, had him straightening his back instinctively, as though the man himself were standing right in front of him. Without preamble, he explained his reason for calling, and Spencer felt his face tingle as the blood rushed down to his feet.

Snapping his phone shut as soon as the call came over, Reid switched into default mode, shakily standing and packing his things away. He needed to leave, right that second…

"Reid."

Spencer looked up to see Hotch silently rebuking his colleagues before turning a sympathetic face to him.

"Would you come see me in my office for a minute?"

Reid nodded quickly, allowing gratitude to seep into his eyes as he locked gazes with his boss. Hurrying up to Hotch's office, he tried to think of a story to tell his boss, for why he needed a week off. The truth, though tempting, was just…just out of the question.

"Reid, listen to me…"

"Hotch," he interrupted his boss, feeling badly for interrupting the man who was simply trying to make him feel better, ever the father that he was to the whole team. "I…I just, I need to take a…um, I need to ah, take a few days personal leave," Reid stuttered out, daring to meet the senior agent's gaze head on. "I have some things I need to take care of."

Hotch looked surprised, keen eyes scrutinizing him. "Is everything okay?" he asked shrewdly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he contemplated Reid's request.

Spencer swallowed hard before nodding slowly. "I just need to…to just take care of some…some things," he repeated vaguely, not wanting to lie to the man as much as he needed the next week off.

Maybe Hotchner had seen the desperation in his eyes, or maybe the man had simply trusted that Reid would speak up if he needed help, but whatever it was, made the normally imposing man nod with a slight smile. "Okay," he consented in a gentle voice, one that he seemed to reserve especially for his family, and for the team when they were having a more intense discussion. "That's okay, Reid. Take the time you need, and give us a call if you need anything from our side."

Nodding gratefully but unable to speak with the horrors of that phone call still ringing in his mind, Reid backed out of the older agent's office. Without turning to look at the agents in the bull pen, without saying a word to JJ or Gideon or Garcia, Reid strode out of Quantico.

It took all his willpower not to look back.

###

 _ **Morgan POV**_

As soon as he walked past them, Morgan stood up, ready to apologize profusely to the younger agent even though he hadn't actually said much. When Spencer kept walking, going straight out of the office without even a backwards glance at them, Derek knew that something was very wrong.

"Give him some time to cool off," Elle suggested quietly when Morgan made to go after Reid. Remorse tearing her pretty features, the other agent sighed. "We can apologize to him tomorrow."

Frustration burning his insides, Morgan crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What in the hell were you thinking, Elle?" he reprimanded her, his tone a shade harsher than the gentle one he normally used for his co-workers. "You _know_ that's a sore spot for Reid."

Elle opened her mouth, about to explain, when JJ's voice came across her.

"Conference room in 10," she announced irritably, barely making eye contact with them. Morgan wondered idly whether he should call Reid and tell him they had a case, but he quickly decided against it. Somebody else could tell him; the kid probably wouldn't answer Morgan's call.

They gathered in the conference room, Reid's absence not going unnoticed.

"Where's the kid?" Gideon asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked around, as if he expected Reid to jump up from under the table or behind a chair. "Does he know we have a case?"

"Reid's taken a few days personal leave," Hotch announced as he walked in. A few days? Something indefinable crushed Morgan's chest, making him deflate at the knowledge. He'd been under the impression that the genius had taken the rest of the day off, but taking personal leave…had they really cut him that deeply?

"We're gonna take the case without him?" Garcia asked, frowning in disappointment. He could see the concern in the TA's eyes and he felt glad that she had saved him from having to ask. Hotch contemplated the thought for a moment, chewing on it absently.

"He asked for a few days, and I want to give him that," he said firmly. Garcia looked down at the table, a troubled expression on her face. JJ looked equal parts concerned and frustrated, while Gideon simply looked thoughtful. Morgan knew his own face was doing little to hide his own troubled and despondent thoughts, but all he could care for at that moment was how wrong this whole case was going to feel, with them missing one of the most important parts of their team. Thanks in large part to them, Reid had no idea what a valued member of the team he was; not only for his amazing intelligence and intellect, but also for the inherent light he seemed to bring into the BAU. For all they had seen and tackled together as a team, as a unit, as a _family_ , Spencer had always managed to retain that air of innocence. It was that very quality that lifted their heavy souls, somehow cleaned them, absolved them of the horrors of their jobs. He stopped the job from consuming them all and his absence weighed on Derek like an anvil.

"We have ten dead bodies over the past three months, in New York," JJ started, switching to a more professional demeanor. Morgan straightened, trying to get his head back in the game. "All the victims' physical descriptions match up, and each of them suffered the same fate; blunt force trauma to the head, and subsequent death. They were all found with a brand on their left shoulders, administered post-mortem. NYPD thinks it's the work of a serial killer…"

###

 _ **Reid POV**_

Reid was many things, but haphazard wasn't usually one of them.

He barely gave any thought to what he was throwing into his bag; if he had been any less distracted, he may have been horrified at the way he was shoving clothes in his suitcase, without any thought to folding them neatly the way he normally did.

But he was distracted, and he did not stop carelessly cramming things away.

Though he'd told Hotch that he needed a few days, Spencer wasn't entirely sure how long he was going to be gone. This was a time-sensitive matter, one he had an obligation to tend to. Making a split second decision, he locked his apartment and power-walked the few blocks to the bank.

He was in luck; there was no queue to follow, but there were still enough people that he wouldn't particularly stand out. He went straight to one of the cashiers, hiding his nervousness behind a cool mask.

"Good afternoon Sir," she smiled cheerfully at him. "How can I help you?"

"Good afternoon," he forced a smile on to his face. "I need to close my account and withdraw all the funds in it."

"Okay," she nodded amiably, "and what is your name and account number?"

"The name is Matt Gray, and my account number is 2-6-6…"

###


	2. Of leaving and facing ghosts

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Thanks so much for the feedback from the first chapter! I'd like to warn once more that updates for this story will not be as frequent as I'd like, due to some time constraints, but I will definitely try to update as quick as I can!

NB! A reminder that this story is AU, as I've taken some liberties with our fave genius's past :-)

Hope y'all enjoy!

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" _Those who do not remember the past, are condemned to repeat it." – George Santayana_

 _~::~::~::~_

 _ **Morgan POV**_

 _~*Five days later*~_

"That case was just _brutal._ "

Morgan made a face as Elle laughed in agreement and Hotch offered him a wan smile.

"You're just saying that because you actually had to _read_ background information this time, instead of having Spence read it all and recite it back to you three minutes later." JJ allowed a small grin to come on to her face to soften the barb; though she had been seething at Morgan and Elle when they'd left for this case, the other two agents had told them how badly they felt, and promised to make it up to the genius once they were home. That was enough to appease her, especially since she could tell how much they had meant it.

"Also true," Morgan nodded, unafraid of admit it, an uncharacteristically soft expression entering his eyes. "I missed the kid. It was bizarre not having him there, offering three thousand little known facts in a day."

"You think he'll be coming back soon?" Gideon aimed his question at Aaron, an unidentifiable look in his hawk-like eyes.

Their leader opened his mouth to answer, before snapping it closed, a thoughtful frown appearing on his face. "He actually never mentioned exactly how long he wanted off," Hotch revealed, seeming only to realize it now. "I just told him to take the time he needed."

For some unknown reason, a coil of anticipation curled in Morgan's stomach. Something about that was sitting very wrong with him; it wasn't like Reid to take time off without specifying when he was going to be back.

Now that he thought about it, Morgan wondered whether he and Elle really were the reasons that Pretty Boy had left. Sure, they had both been incredible jerks to him, but Spencer never allowed personal things to get in the way of his work. It would have been more like the kid to build up those damn walls again, to keep them out; he wouldn't have missed the case just because of their ribbing.

It seemed his team was thinking along the same lines, because JJ suddenly called Garcia on the plane's phone.

"Already jonesing for another case, my doves?" Penelope asked sunnily as she came on the line, managing somehow to sound both bemused and cheerful at the same time.

"Garcia," JJ leveled a serious look at the bubbly TA. "Has Spence been back at the offices since we left?"

"No, he has not." Maybe the looks on their faces were telling, because she immediately sobered. "Why, is something wrong?"

Morgan was beginning to feel a lot like something was crushing his chest, a feeling he had rarely experienced before in his life. "Can you try to call him, baby girl? We just want to make sure he's okay."

"Hit you back when I get through to him," she nodded in response, hanging up without another word.

Morgan clenched his hands into fists, resting them on his knees. Over and over again, the flash of deep hurt he'd seen before Reid could close off his face, multiplied in his mind, taunting him, mocking him. Making sure that he knew that _he_ was the reason they hadn't heard from Spencer, or had the genius with them on this case. Sure, he guessed that technically, it was Elle's fault, but that was something of a moot point; the fact of the matter, was that Pretty Boy was _his_ to protect. He was supposed to defend the kid, especially when something hurt him, he wasn't supposed to instigate it.

He couldn't change the fact that Reid hadn't contacted them, he decided. But he was damn well going to figure out why the kid had requested leave. Maybe something was going on with his mom? God knew the genius would need a friend if that were the case, since Diana Reid was definitely a sore topic for him.

Or maybe it was something to do with Reid's father? Maybe…well, he couldn't really make any conjectures about that, since he didn't really know anything about Pretty Boy's dad.

He didn't really know _anything_ about _anything_ about Spencer's past.

His frown deepened with that troubling realization. Normally, it wouldn't have bothered him not to know much about a colleague's history, but this was _Reid_. Pretty Boy was, despite his reticence to admit it, _his_. By extension, he was supposed to _know_ the simple, little things that made up the boy-genius.

"Guys?" Penelope's abnormally timid voice broke through his thoughts. His gut grew icy cold when he saw the look of naked fear in the TA's usually happy face.

"Garcia?" It was JJ who managed to push the name from her mouth in a choked question.

"Reid's number was deactivated the day y'all left for the case," Garcia reported in a small voice, "and he hasn't been anywhere near headquarters since he left that same day."

###

 _ **Reid POV**_

 _I thought this was over. Damn it, this was supposed to be over._

Reid ran his hands haphazardly through his long hair, uncaring of how messy it made him look. He paced the length of the fairly insipid motel room, taking care to count his steps in an attempt to keep himself calm.

He knew this strategy; giving him orders to meet at a certain place without specifying the time, and then letting him stew in his own juices for an indeterminate amount of times to gain an upper hand, psychologically, on him. He knew the tactic, alright, since he had been the one to create the damn thing, back when he still worked for them.

Which was why he was determined not to let it work against him.

Spencer was many things, but a fool to his own machinations? He was anything but that.

 _I thought this was over. Damn it, this was supposed to be over._

Rather than mulling over what would happen once he caught up with his old acquaintances, he dug out a thick manila envelope from his messenger bag. Although he could recite every page of the documents word for word – and _not only_ because he had an eidetic memory – he found it helped him concentrate better when the facts were solid beneath his fingertips.

He read the report quickly, working hard to keep himself impartial to its contents. He knew from experience just how easy it would be to lose himself in the case that had nearly ended his career before it had even started…

Sensing himself beginning to think on those unwanted memories, he snapped the files closed harshly. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, Reid cast around in his vast mental catalogue for a memory a little less painful, recognizing the urgent need to distract himself.

" _This is Special Agent Reid, he's the newest addition to our merry band of misfits."_

 _Spencer offered the people in front of him a half-smile, his nerves making him painfully shy. The naïve hope that the experienced agents would accept his position amongst them was quickly extinguished when no less than three of the four of them regarded him with disbelieving scowls._

" _He's just a kid," a slightly greying man to Reid's right stated baldly. "Shouldn't he be in high school or something?"_

 _Without thinking, he blurted, "I haven't been in high school since I was twelve."_

 _The greying man barely paid him any mind. "Seriously, Garth, if I needed a sixteen-year-old child who couldn't tell me the difference between a G-17 and a G-19, then I'd go to my kid's high school."_

 _Now, Spencer bristled. He was normally a sedate guy, but he had been dealing with bullies his entire life and (new colleague or not) this guy was being nothing but annoying._

" _A Glock 19 is effectively a compact version of the Glock 17," he stated archly. "It's barrel is shorter by about half an inch and while both guns use 9mm rounds, the 19 is compatible with cartridges from the 17, whereas the 17 is restricted to its own cartridges. Interestingly enough," he continued casually, enjoying the look on the man's face, "what a lot of people don't know is that the recoil strength on the Compact is about a pound more than the Glock 17. I really only noticed it myself when I was at the shooting range and my targets were off, but once I realized the problem, I managed to hit all my rounds through the same initial hole again." He waited a beat before adding coolly, "Also, I'm twenty-one. If you're going to make a snap judgement of my skills based on my age, then you should at least give me the courtesy of getting said age right."_

 _There was a moment of utter silence following his little display. The entire team seemed gobsmacked, and while Reid couldn't see Garth's face, he hoped that a death glare wasn't being aimed at his head._

 _After a few long seconds, another man who looked to be about 29, stood up. He clapped his hands with dramatic and deliberate leisure._

" _Slow-clap for Special Agent Reid, guys," he declared, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth as he grinned boyishly at Spencer. "That was the fastest I have ever seen anyone take down the great Donny Haynes." Directing his open, friendly grin at Spencer again, the younger agent found himself feeling comfortable for the first time since he walked in. "I'm Ray Santos," he offered his hand. "Welcome to the team, Rookie."_

 _Spencer usually avoided handshakes, but for some reason, he didn't feel any qualms as he gripped the proffered hand in his. "Spencer Reid," he smiled awkwardly, trying to hide his relief at the friendly gesture. He must not have managed it very well, because Agent Santos sent him a softer, reassuring smile and a quick wink that – for some unfathomable reason – made Reid blush crimson._

" _ **Doctor**_ _Spencer Reid, the way I've heard it." The brunette that was sitting next to Agent Haynes grinned widely at him, her dark brown eyes warm. "A doctor and a special agent? You've got some impressive credentials, kid." Without waiting for an answer, she slapped an open palm against Haynes' chest. "Give him a break, Don. I think he'll be a good fit for us. Whaddaya think, Mystify?"_

 _The last member of the team and the only one who hadn't spoken yet, stood up. The blonde woman had been one of them glaring at him upon his introduction, but now she regarded him with simple intrigue._

" _I think he's got potential," she stated, after a moment of consideration. She offered him a small smile as he visibly relaxed. "My name's not Mystify, by the way," she added, scowling at the still-grinning brunette. "It's Mysty. Special Agent Mysty Rourke."_

" _It's a pleasure to meet you," Spencer nodded politely with a smile before turning his gaze on the brunette. "You didn't, uh…you didn't mention your name, Special Agent…?"_

" _Charee Le Corre," she supplied easily. "Call me Charlie."_

" _You're French?" Spencer cringed as soon as the surprised observation left his mouth unbidden._

 _Charlie didn't seem offended; more amused than anything else. "Oui," she nodded with a playful grin. "I lost the accent once I started school. Parlez-vous français?" (Do you speak French?)_

" _Oui, Madame, mon professeur de français était belle," he shot back fluently with a little smirk. (Yes, Ma'am, my French teacher was beautiful)._

 _The brunette threw back her head with a laugh, ignoring the confused looks from the rest of the team._

" _You're going to be just fine, Rookie."_

Reid smiled softly. If he concentrated hard enough, he could practically hear Charlie's laugh, echoing like the woman was still standing right in front of him.

After the rocky introductions, he hadn't altogether expected things to work out with the team, but miraculously, it had. He had found a niche with them, a feeling of belonging that was entirely foreign to him at the time. He thought, then, that he would see out his entire career with them.

Until _that_ case brought everything crashing down on him.

He slammed the file forcefully against the rickety bedside table in his agitation.

 _I thought this was over. Damn it, this was supposed to be over._

The case had done some irreparable damage to the team; damage that even Charlie couldn't have put a positive spin on. And it all came down to one irrefutable thing.

It was _all his fault._

It was why he'd left, too. He couldn't stand to face his team after what he had inadvertently put them through. Most of all, he couldn't stand the hurt that came when they made him a stranger once more. To take a stranger, and make him family, and then to turn him into a stranger again…it was more painful than anything Reid had experienced in his short life.

When Garth had called him, back at Quantico…he'd slipped right back into old habits, listened unquestioningly to the drill-sergeant type Supervisory Agent as though he had never left the team. Now, in retrospect, it irked him. Sitting in the motel room, alone, after days with a deliberate lack of contact, Reid half wished he'd rebelled against his old boss and mentor.

Although to be fair, his willingness to leave his new life to return to his old one, had less to do with _who_ had spoken to him, and more to do with _what_ Garth had _spoken about._

He was no longer part of the team, but damn if he could let them face this demon on their own.

 _I thought this was over. Damn it, this was supposed to be over._

The thought looped around his head incessantly, driving him crazy with its repetition. As images of the past he'd been running from for a year, flashed behind his eyelids (and when did he close his eyes?) Spencer was forced to face the fact that he was very close to the downward spiral that those thoughts always took him down.

Until he was yanked from the edge by the sound of someone picking the measly lock on his motel room door.

Acting on an instinct he'd pretended not to have in the BAU, Reid grabbed his gun and dropped soundlessly to one knee, hidden partially by the bed as he took steady aim to the door. Taking slow, even breaths, he waited patiently to see who was on the other side of the door.

It swung open to reveal the messy black hair, toned form, and impossibly vibrant eyes of the one team member he was dreading reuniting with the most.

He rose slowly to his feet, lowering his gun and biting back a breathy exhalation. For a long moment that seemed to last much longer, they looked at each other, drinking each other in.

Finally, Reid found his voice.

"Hey, Ray. It's been a long time."

###

 _ **Morgan POV**_

"What do you mean, _his apartment is cleaned out_?"

Morgan got a glare from JJ in response to his seething question, but the supervisory special agent couldn't have cared less in that moment. What had started out as a bad feeling on the plane had quickly turned into a fully blown panic attack at the thought of everything that could have happened to his Pretty Boy in the five days he had apparently been missing.

 _Should have called him. Damn it, I should have just gone after him the minute he left!_

"I mean," he refocused on JJ as she began to speak to him in a clipped voice, "that his apartment is _empty_! His clothes are all gone, his fridge has been cleared out, he's _gone_!" JJ's voice had grown steadily louder as she yelled at him, her own panic seeping through and transposing to anger.

"He can't be gone," Morgan snapped back, unable to stop himself. "He wouldn't have just left."

Hotch aimed stern glances at them both, warning them to calm down. "Is there any sign that he was forced to leave?" he asked JJ after a moment.

"No," the blonde shook her head slowly, chewing on her lip as she thought back to what she had seen in the genius's apartment. "No signs of forced entry, or a struggle, and absolutely no clue to where he might be. If he was forced, Reid would've found a way to leave us a clue."

"Then we operate on the assumption that he left willingly," Gideon stated expressionlessly, "without the intention of telling us where he was going, and for how long."

Morgan bristled at the lack of feeling in the older agent's tone, as though he weren't at all worried about all the possible ways that this was a worst case scenario.

"You can't be saying that we should just wait for him to show up?" Elle asked incredulously, voicing Morgan's own concerns. "Whether he left willingly or not, something upset Reid the day he left, and I'm starting to think it wasn't just something to do with what a moron I was." She huffed a breath, obviously trying to compose herself.

JJ took up the argument, turning her big blue eyes on Hotch and Gideon. "Elle's right," she said firmly. "Spencer wouldn't have just left because of hurt feelings. Something is going on, and he could be in trouble, and if we just ignore it…"

"We're not going to ignore it," Gideon interrupted her, frowning slightly, like he was insulted that they thought he would've abandoned their favorite boy-genius. "We're going to start thinking about what would make Reid, an intelligent, reasonable kid, decide to skip town without informing the team he sees as his own family."

Satisfied that everyone was on the same page, Hotch turned to an ashen-faced Penelope, who had been observing the proceedings uncharacteristically quietly.

"Garcia, I need you pull up everything you can find on Reid electronically; traffic cam footage from the day he left, any activity on his back accounts, any calls he made or received prior to his departure from here." The TA nodded solemnly as Hotch spoke his orders, her curls bouncing lightly as she did. "I also need you to dig into his past a little, see if there's anything there that would make him leave suddenly, anything that he'd be too embarrassed or scared to talk to us about. JJ will help you."

"You got it," JJ affirmed quietly, and the blondes left. Even Garcia's heels clacking against the floor seemed to have lost its bouncy rhythm.

Turning back to them, Morgan saw the real concern hidden in Hotch's eyes, that he wasn't expressing in the interest of staying calm for the team's sake. He felt a wave of gratitude for his boss, because he was sure that there was no way he could even pretend to be level-headed when his Pretty Boy could have been in danger.

"Morgan, Elle," Hotch addressed them, "I want you to talk to anybody that might have spoken to Reid at any point in time in the past week; his neighbors, landlord, a barista at his favorite coffee place…anyone you can think of that he might have mentioned anything to." They nodded in understanding and left as Hotch turned to Gideon, presumably to come up with some sort of plan of action.

As they left the conference room, both agents were lost in their thoughts. Morgan's head was spinning as his mind spewed out all the possible dangers Reid could've been in. The feeling in the pit of his stomach – that steel ball of overwhelming dread – was worse than anything he'd experienced in a long time.

The kid was way under his skin.

"Hey Morgan?" Elle's unnaturally small voice broke through his musings. He looked at her expectantly, a silent invitation to continue. "Do you think, if I hadn't of made that comment…do you think that Reid might've told us what was going on? Do you think he would've asked for help?"

Derek knew what the brunette was asking for; a reassurance that she wasn't to blame for whatever situation Pretty Boy was in. That Reid wouldn't hold anything against her if… _when_ they found him.

He could've given her that much, but all his emotions were in pandemonium inside him, and frankly? Morgan just wasn't in the right frame of mind to deal with anyone else's feelings. Hell, for all he knew, Spencer _might have_ turned to him, if Elle had just filtered her stupid words like everyone else.

So instead of offering her some meaningless platitude, Derek shrugged curtly, and didn't say a word.

Elle faltered a step, but Morgan kept walking. He had only gotten a few paces before her soft voice stopped him.

"You love him, don't you?"

The profiler stopped in his tracks, waiting until Elle had caught up with him before turning to face her. "Of course I do," he said tersely. "We all do."

"No," she shook her head impatiently, "I don't mean like that. You're _in love_ with him."

The denial came swiftly to his lips…

…but it died there when he realized that he didn't _want to_ dispute the inference.

Like a freight train, it hit him. Everything he had ever felt – the protectiveness, the possessiveness, the jealousy, the tenderness, the unfathomable connection they shared, the strange warmth that seemed to come from Reid's presence…all of it suddenly took on a new and deeper meaning. It was like he'd finally lifted the blindfold and the sun was blinding him in all it's beautiful, brilliant glory.

Jesus Christ, _of course_ he was in love with Reid.

Elle seemed to realize that he was only having his epiphany now, because she gave him a weak smile. "We'll find him, and you can tell him then," she suggested softly. "Right after I give him the apology of a lifetime."

Nodding dazedly, Derek followed her into the elevator, still reeling from what he should've known all along.

 _I love Spencer Reid. My Pretty Boy._

An irrational smile played on his lips, the thought acting as a single ray of light – of hope – in this thunderstorm of a situation. It filled Morgan with renewed determination to find him, charm him, treat him the way Spencer should always be treated.

 _I love you, Pretty Boy. I'm gonna come get you._

###

 _ **Ray POV**_

Ray Santos stared at Spencer Reid, drinking in the sight of the stunning, toned, lanky man like someone who spent too long dying of thirst.

The man he had tried so hard to forget, but who he could never stop loving.

Lord have mercy, but he was just as beautiful as he was the last time they'd seen each other.

Of course, it was Spence who found his voice first. "Hey Ray," he greeted, his voice even making the older agent's _name_ sound like a choir. "It's been a long time."

Ray nodded slowly, fighting against the impulse to let loose with a long-winded speech about _how happy_ he was to see Reid again, and how he wasn't going to let the younger agent leave again, because damn it, he was _still in love_ with him, and they were _magic_ , and he wasn't going to give that up again without one _hell_ of a fight.

Instead, he took a few breaths, and then murmured, "You look good, Rookie."

His voice might have been rough, and maybe even a little shaky, but it was a far sight better than his initial reaction.

No, he had to bide his time before he laid that on Spencer again. He had a lot to make right, but he was going to do it right. He had no other choice, he couldn't let the younger man go again.

As Spencer gave a tiny, grudging half-smile, the thought rose unbidden to his mind.

 _I love you, Rookie. I'm gonna get you back._

###

A/N: Hope y'all liked the insight into Ray's mind! My OCs will play a considerable role here, so I hope you like them!

Let me know what you think, please!


	3. Of goodbyes and inner voices

Disclaimer: Not mine in the very least

A/N: I have to give a special thank you for the awesome reviews and words of encouragement! Thank you soo much, _**SupremeMasterOverlordKhurro, ripon, Timeye and Lenika08, as well as the guest that reviewed!**_

Many thanks also to everyone else who followed and or favourited!

 _ **Special shout out to Timeye; thank you so much for correcting my French! You didn't offend at all; on the contrary, you were so sweet, and I really appreciate the help!**_

 _ **This chapter is dedicated to you!**_

~::~::~::~::~

" _Turn your demons into art, your shadow into a friend, your fear into fuel, your failures into teachers, your weaknesses into reasons to keep fighting. Don't waste your pain. Recycle your heart." – Andrea Balt_

~::~::~::~::~

 _ **Reid POV**_

Although he tried not to let it affect him, he couldn't help the small smile that fought its way on to his face at the compliment.

 _You look good, Rookie._

It was so like Ray to, after all this time, hold on to that asinine nickname. Surely after all the cases he worked, he was no longer a rookie…but even so, Reid was hard-pressed to correct him.

Instead, he forced himself to meet the bright blue eyes of the first guy he'd ever loved. "Thank you," he replied, keeping his tone even and polite. "I…you've been well?" he asked awkwardly, determined not to break eye-contact first.

"I've been better," the older agent shrugged with an easy grin, "but I'm pretty damn great right at this moment."

 _Ignore the charm, Spence! That is NOT what you're here for!_ "Where's the rest of your team, Agent Santos?" he asked coolly, mentally patting himself on the back for remembering not to refer to the team as theirs, and for remembering not to call him Ray. He'd already made that mistake once today.

"Uh," Ray flinched almost imperceptibly. "They're at HQ. They all wanted to come, even Donny…but I persuaded them to let me fetch you alone."

"And it took you all eight days to come to that decision?" Reid expected a joking side-step or a sheepish apology, but he didn't get either.

Instead, blue eyes flashed in anger. " _Eight days?_ You've been holed up in here for _eight days_?!" At the genius's muted nod, Ray swore a blue streak. "I cannot believe those assholes," he muttered, sounding genuinely upset. "Garth only told us he called you last night!"

Reid felt a little lost, unsure how to act in the face of his ex-boyfriend's obviously vehement anger on his behalf. "Calm down, Agent Santos. Let's focus on the case."

Ray turned a gloomy expression on him. "You know my name, Reid. You can call me it, you don't have to use my title."

The emotions running amok inside him, were quickly becoming too much to bottle. "I'm trying to remain professional," he snapped, "and I wish you would at least act it."

"Things were never _just professional_ with us, Rookie," Ray shot back, a familiar glint of lust darkening his eyes. "I wish you would at least _acknowledge_ it."

They stood for a moment in silence, just staring at each other, apparently at an impasse. The air between them seemed to crackle with unresolved tension, only some of it stemming from their professional differences.

Damn it, but Reid couldn't help remembering that the tension had been part of what made them so damn fantastic together.

Trying to stop the thoughts from surfacing in his far too expressive eyes, Spencer was the first of them to break the stare-off.

"Look, Ray," he grudgingly used the agent's name, trying to squash the thrill that come from his answering smile, "what used to be between us…that was in the past. It all ended the day I left the team. I came back because I wasn't about to let you all deal with this alone; not when I was just as big a part of it as you was."

"Or maybe," Ray took a step forward, his voice deepening a notch, in a way Spencer recognized as deliberate, "maybe you came back because you know that this team – that _our_ team – is _home_. It's where you're _supposed_ to be; where you should _never_ have left." He grimaced lightly. "Where we should _never have let_ you leave."

"You more than _let me_ leave, Ray, you practically called me a town car," Reid retorted bitterly, the pain he'd buried since that day bubbling back to the surface once more. "As far as I'm concerned, you made your feelings _crystal clear_ that day."

"You don't understand, Spence…"

Reid cut him off impatiently, determinedly setting his eyes back on the file. "There's nothing left to understand. Now, if you would be so kind, Agent Santos, as to debrief me on the current situation? I'd like to wrap this up as quickly as possible, I've got a life to get back to."

###

 _ **Ray POV**_

 _A life to get back to?_ Ray surveyed the words in his mind uneasily. _Does he mean…does that life include…another guy? A…a family?_

He wanted so badly to just come out and ask, but Spencer's pointed tapping on the manila case folder told him that the long-haired genius was seconds away from decking him, or shooting him.

Frankly, he didn't want to give the kid any incentives.

Spencer Reid may have been the team's rookie, but there was no doubt that he was the sharpest shooter of them all.

Bearing that in mind, Ray grabbed a chair, seating himself opposite Reid. He hesitated for a moment, wondering what would be the best way to say it, before he realized that ripping the proverbial Band-Aid off would be the best approach. "Diego Cordona is back on the streets."

As expected, even the sound of the name sent an involuntary tremble rocketing through the younger man's frame. Instinctive protectiveness settled into Ray and he barely resisted the urge to wrap Spencer up in his arms.

"I know," Reid forced the words out. "Garth told me. Does Haynes, Rourke and Le Corre know?"

Every time that the kid referred to them by surname – so impersonally, like he couldn't bear to accept that he knew them – sent a stake through Ray's heart. It was a small win to hear his name out of the younger agent's mouth again, but he seemed to have ruined that small bit of progress with his knee-jerk flirtatious responses.

He forced himself to focus. "Yeah," he nodded, clearing his throat. "Yeah, they know. Charlie wanted to track you down and hop on a plane right then and there," he added, hoping that if he kept reminding Reid how much they loved him, that the genius would forgive their stupid mistakes.

All it seemed to accomplish, was to bring back that hurt look in Spencer's gorgeous, communicative honey-brown eyes.

He foraged on, hoping any of his words would get through even one of Reid's apparently impenetrable emotional walls. "I've never seen Donny as mad as he was that day; he bit the heads off everyone involved, even the higher-ups. And Mysty, well she was only a few words away from launching a fully-fledged man hunt on the streets."

"Santos."

The hard glint in Spencer's eyes stopped him in his tracks. He had never seen that edge to the agent before, and it hurt him to think that they were the reason he had developed it. Not any of the things he had seen, but _them_ , his own team, had taken away the youthful innocence that Reid should have always had.

He deflated slightly. "Yeah?"

"What are you playing at?" the younger man asked quietly, tiredly. As if he were weighted down by too many things to count. "Do you honestly think that embellishing the team's reactions is going to make me think any of you give a _shit_ about me?"

If the cuss, coming from the ever-eloquent Doctor Reid, wasn't enough to startle Ray, then the man's wrongful assumption that the team never cared about him, certainly did the trick.

"We made a mistake, Spence," he admitted quietly, boring his eyes in Reid's and hoping that his persistence would make the other agent see that it was okay to let his guard down a little. "I'll readily admit to that. But I swear, I wasn't embellishing a damn thing. We were – _are_ – that worried about you. No matter what went down before, you are still, and you always will be, our family. I don't know why you think that changed, and I'm sorry for whatever we did to make you think that, but I promise you; it is not the truth."

For a few long moments, his ex-boyfriend stared into his eyes. Ray made sure not to avert his gaze or give Reid any reason to think that he wasn't being completely sincere. He wasn't entirely sure what the younger man was looking for, but whatever it was, he seemed to have found it, if his almost imperceptible nod was any indication.

"You should book a room and get some sleep," the genius muttered unexpectedly. At Ray's quizzical look, he gestured out the window, where darkness was slowly creeping in. "We're obviously not going to get much done right now, with the case, and judging by the fact that you showed up here in the late afternoon, after being briefed last night, it's a long drive to the new headquarters. You might as well get some rest… and we're not sharing my room."

Despite the situation, a smile quirked the older agent's lips up. "You know you wanna share with me, Rookie."

"Yeah, no chance, Ray. I'd sooner share with Donny, at this point," Spencer shot back without thinking about it, the barest hint of a grin on his face.

So maybe Reid had slipped into their banter, smiled, and used their first names without really, consciously realizing he was doing it.

It was still a small win, and Ray was willing to take a win wherever he would get one.

###

 _ **Morgan POV**_

"Eight days, Hotch. It's been eight damn days since he's gone missing!"

Giving in to his frustration, that had been steadily building the past three days, Morgan hurled his pen against the opposite wall. Granted, it didn't do any damage outside of a miniscule splatter of ink on the otherwise pristine surface, but it made him feel a smidgen better.

No. That was a lie. He didn't feel even a little bit better, because his Pretty Boy was still out there somewhere, alone, and – if history served to be any indicator – in trouble.

He slumped on to his chair, blowing a sigh through his teeth. Apparently satisfied that he'd calmed down, Hotch turned his eyes back to the file in front of him.

"Let's go over what we know," he suggested calmly, only the tension in his posture and the bags under his eyes giving away how worried he actually was. "We know that Reid cleaned out his apartment and paid six months' rent to his landlord, with the intention of leaving for an indeterminate amount of time."

"According to traffic cam footage," Gideon picked up where Aaron left off, "he went to a bank not far from his home. One of the tellers recognized him, and apparently he emptied out a bank account that was under the alias Matt Gray. That tells us, again, that he doesn't know how long he's going to be gone, but the alias tells us that he didn't want this business affecting his normal, everyday life."

Elle took over, the flow between them moving without interruption. "We also know that he received one call that was out of the ordinary, from a blocked and untraceable number, just before he asked Hotch for time off. We know that he reacted to something that was said to him, and took off because of it. Now, this could mean one of several things…"

"Would you _stop_?!" This time, it was JJ's harsh voice that came over them, snapping as harsh as a whip. The blonde bit her lip, pressing a hand against her forehead as though she were trying to quell a headache. "You guys are treating him like some kind of UNSUB, it's ridiculous!" She aimed her big blue eyes at each of them in turn, a mixture of beseeching and angry. "This is Spence! He's our co-worker, our _friend_! He's like a little brother, and you all are treating him like he's your suspect!"

"JJ," Hotch frowned sympathetically, "Reid is not a suspect. We're only handling it like this because we're trying to put ourselves in his shoes, you know that."

There was a tense moment, where JJ simply glared at Hotch and the team leader sighed lightly, seeming immune to her anger, but not to the hurt that lingered in her eyes.

"It's late," Gideon's even voice cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter. The experienced and jaded FBI agent looked at each member of the team in turn, not allowing the uncharacteristic hurt to show when his gaze roved over the kid's vacant seat that no one dared remove or sit in. "We should go home, get some rest. Look at everything with fresh eyes in the morning. We're not getting anything done right now."

Morgan wanted to protest, and he knew he wasn't the only one, but he also knew that Jason was the only one making sense. They _were_ running around in circles, as much as they didn't want to admit it. Reid had covered his tracks well, a consequence of being a federal agent, and banging their heads against the wall was only going to give them a concussion.

Wordlessly, the team of profilers began to clear off, each of them weighted down by the worry for their resident genius.

Morgan couldn't help but to glance forlornly at Reid's desk before he left; the space, the bull pen, and the whole damn office just seemed so dull without the genius's bright presence.

"Feels wrong without him, doesn't it?"

Morgan turned around to face Hotch, who had unknowingly spoken his own thoughts. Honestly, Derek had more expected Jennifer to be the one who could commiserate with his misery most of all, but it seemed Hotchner had been holding back with his own affection for the kid.

"Yeah," he nodded, scrubbing a rough hand down his face wearily. "I swear, Reid just brings his own personal brand of light to this place that I never noticed until it wasn't there anymore."

The team leader smiled slightly, the slightest lift of his lips, signaling his unspoken agreement. "He's still so young. We forget, sometimes, because of how mature he's always had to be, and because of how smart he is. I take it for granted a lot of the time."

Morgan sensed where Aaron's thoughts were heading, and he shook his head sympathetically. "Don't go there, Hotch. I know you see Reid as a son, or a little brother, but you couldn't have pushed him to talk to you about this. Reid's still afraid to trust anyone other than himself…"

"I can't help wonder why that is," Hotch furrowed his brow contemplatively. "I understand that he's had to count on himself his whole life, but what experience made him wary of trusting his own team mates?"

Morgan chewed on the question. "Probably something from his childhood or something?" he suggested, knowing that there were too many situations that could've abused the kid's trust like that. "Whatever it is, I don't think we've been helping by giving him a hard time."

This time, is was Hotch who was shaking his head. "On the contrary, a lot of your teasing made him feel like part of the team," he countered. "It's why I don't say anything most of the time. But I think steering clear of the subjects that are sensitive for Reid, would be prudent, in the future."

"I'll take that under advisement," Morgan smiled faintly, for the first time since Reid went missing. It was nothing like his normal demeanor, but it was a sight better than he had been the past few days.

The team leader nodded with another small smile and the two parted ways, Hotch heading home, and Morgan taking the same detour he had been taking the past three days. To Reid's apartment.

He let himself in using the spare key the landlord had given them, and the same way he did every day, he canvassed the rooms for any clues they might have missed, found nothing, and then flopped on the couch in Reid's living room.

Unsurprisingly, the young genius had sparse décor and only a few framed photos of his mom and the team scattered around, as opposed to the looming and packed tight bookshelf. Derek felt a rush of affection as his gaze roved over the titles sitting there. There were a lot of classics, but just as many contemporary books, and a fair amount of non-fiction too.

Suddenly, he flashed back to conversation they'd had while they were busy with paperwork…

 _Spencer looked entirely serious as he suddenly jerked his face up and looked at Morgan, a speculative look in his eye as he absently licked his lips._

" _You know, Morgan, I've been thinking."_

" _Uh-oh. That's never a good thing, kid."_

 _The 24-year-old didn't seem the slightest bit put off by Morgan's teasing. "I think I've figured out why some people become serial killers."_

" _Of course you have," the older agent nodded easily with a grin, straightening up to give Reid his full attention. "Lay it on me, Pretty Boy."_

 _Spencer's answering smile was adorable._

" _Well, I realize that the probability is less than miniscule," he started, "but we really can't discount even the tiniest, microscopic possibility that some people become criminals because they never read the right books as kids."_

 _Of all the things Morgan had been expecting, this was not it._

" _They…didn't read…the right books."_

" _Yes!" Once again, Spencer seemed unperturbed by Morgan's incredulity. "I know I hate when I read a book and it turns out to be a huge disappointment. I'd be angry too. Now imagine if they just kept reading bad books?"_

 _Morgan was silent for a moment as he debated the pros and cons of engaging in the debate with the genius. In the end, he decided it was probably for the greater good that he steer the kid away from the topic._

" _Sure kid. But I doubt it we need to look at that avenue just yet, so don't worry about it."_

Morgan felt a surge of affection and warmth as he remembered the incident. Hotch was right; Reid was, in so many ways, still so young. In the way that he looked for justification in the bad things that happened. In the way that he looked for the good in everyone.

But in the same vein, he was so much more mature than even they were sometimes. In the way he could understand even the most tortured of victims and even offenders. In the way he had been responsible for both his, and his mom's life, practically since childhood.

Reid was a case of constant contradictions, and it made him so damn exceptional, both as a man, and as an agent.

With his mind wandering, Morgan suddenly noticed something different. All the books on the shelf seemed well-read, their spines cracked and their covers obviously worn from use…

All the books except one.

 _A Practical Guide to Cleaning Your Car Engine._

Morgan frowned suspiciously, grabbing the book, because no way did Pretty Boy bother owning a book he would never use, unless…

The older agent punched the air slightly in excitement at the safe hidden inside the book. _Unless he were using it to hide something._

It took him longer than he cared to admit, to pick the lock, and once he did, the results were a bit anticlimactic. All the box held was a dried up red rose petal, a few movie ticket stubs so faded the print wasn't even visible, a few post-its with quotes from poems on them…

…and an old photograph.

It showed a slightly younger Reid with four other people; two men and two women. On the end, was a tall and slightly greying man, then next to him was a beautiful brunette. She was holding on to Spencer on the one side, while the second man – an admittedly good looking blue-eyed guy with jet black hair – was on the genius's other side. His hand was snug around Spencer's waist, and the younger man was leaning into him slightly, as opposed to the light hold the guy had around the smiling blonde's shoulder, who was on the other far end.

Morgan knew how ridiculous it was to feel jealous of a picture, and yet…

He flipped the photo around and found Reid's distinctive hand writing on the back.

 _Ray, Charlie, Don, Mysty and I – June '04._

Morgan wasn't sure why he expected more than a brief, concise annotation, but he had hoped. Any link to Spencer's past would have meant a new avenue to explore, but with only a month, year, and a bunch of nicknames?

There was nothing to be had from that lead.

All the same, the question stuck in his head all the way back to his own apartment that night.

 _Who are those people, and why does it seem like they were closer to Pretty Boy than I think?_

###

 _ **Reid POV**_

 _Damn it, everything is just a mess._

Reid sighed gustily, rubbing his eyes in a weary motion that was telling of his feelings in that moment. Darkness had fallen outside, and the world was quiet, which was much more than could be said for his mind.

Flashbacks of the Cordona case painted the backs of his eyelids, haunting him, mocking him, taunting him. He had tried so hard to bury it – bury that entire time in his life – which was no easy feat, given his eidetic memory, but it was all to no avail.

 _You can't outrun the past, Spencer._

Dropping on to one of the chairs in the room, Reid forced himself to accept that this was happening. This, that was never meant to happen, that was never supposed to come to pass, had done just that. He had no choice but to deal with it, and hope he could survive a second time.

And suddenly, he missed the BAU.

In his head, he knew that he was just another co-worker to them; though he tried, he could not find the family he was looking for in the unit. But all the same, he missed _them._ He might not have meant much to them, save JJ, but they all held places in his heart despite that. JJ and her constant mothering that never seemed to smother him as much as make him feel loved. Garcia's quirky jokes and her tireless attempts to educate him on her "way of life". Hotch's solid presence and Gideon's mentoring, even when he insisted that he wasn't. Elle's sarcasm. Morgan…

…well, Spencer missed more about Morgan that he was comfortable admitting.

He missed the older agent's laugh. His constant teasing. His tactile nature. His unwavering dependability and the way that he always seemed to know when to push and when to simply be there to lean on. The way he looked out for everyone and never expected anything from it. The way he treated them all like they were something special, and unique in ways that he never disparaged. His smile…not his professional smile, or the lady-killer grin that he flashed quite often, but the _real_ one; the one that was only seen when you caught him off guard, that was soft, and warm, and gentle, and affectionate, and…

 _I'm losing my God damned mind._

Reid allowed his head to fall into his hands. What was he doing, thinking about Morgan like that? He wasn't… _attracted_ to Morgan…was he?

 _Yeah, because workplace relationships have worked out great for you thus far._

Spencer hated the sarcastic little voice in the back of his head, but damn it, it had been making some pretty valid points to date. Everything _was_ a mess, and he _couldn't_ run from his past, and his relationship with Ray _did_ leave much to be desired in the way of his relationship experience. Ray had always been the one person he could feel comfortable around, not unlike Morgan, but seeing his old boyfriend again today had proven that they were in a really bad place since they last saw each other.

Spencer couldn't even bear to think about the possibility of one day only seeing Derek after a year of purposefully being away from him, only to have things feel like there was a palpable rope of tension between the two of them. Even after the harsh reality that he wasn't really part of the BAU family, he had never intended to leave there. He was learning there, making a difference, and even if he never had the team, he always had JJ. And Gideon. Even Hotch, to an extent.

He didn't _want_ to leave the BAU. He didn't want that at all.

But what would he do if the team forgave him? If they forgave what he did a year ago, and apologized for what they did in return? Could he really leave them again? Could he leave Ray again? If they had a chance at being a family again? The five of them back together? The dream team?

 _You can't forgive and forget what happened, moron. If you could, you wouldn't have hightailed it to the BAU in the first damn place. Besides…you're talking as though you're going to make it out of this alive. Judging from the last time…there's a good chance you aren't._

"Oh, God, I hope this isn't how Mom's voices started," he groaned to himself, the words muffled by the fact that his face was still covered by his hands.

But he couldn't deny that his inner voice was on a winning streak.

Sighing again, he let himself fall against the bed, eyes going to the bland, dirty-white ceiling with several suspicious patches of God-knows-what. He knew that he had to make a decision soon; assuming he lived through this ordeal a second time, it would be a decision that would shape his career and life.

Thankfully, though, now was not the time to make that decision. Now was the time to face his demons. Now was the time to stare down with something he'd tried running from for long enough. Now was the time to get some damn rest, because he was definitely going to need it, especially if they were going down the road to Cordona again.

All at once, he realized that whatever course of action they were going to take, he was already away from work for 8 days. Hotch had told him to take the time he needed, but he was sure that his superior would not be so understanding as to allow him time off without so much as an explanation. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how long this was going to take, and _(thank you, inner voice)_ whether or not he would come out of it alive.

 _You care about them. You can't just vanish without even giving him sufficient notice to replace you…or without saying goodbye._

Reid huffed in annoyance. "I hate you," he grumbled to himself, grabbing the receiver off the bedside table phone and dialing JJ's office line. He couldn't bear to speak to her – to any of them – and lie to them outright, and he couldn't take any questions either.

It was cowardly, in a way, but he would have to leave a message.

He listened to JJ's outgoing message (always so professional and somehow, even over the phone, sounding friendly and sweet and open) with an affectionate smile on his face, and the heaviness in his chest told him that, by voice message or not, this was going to be difficult.

"Hey, JJ," he said hoarsely, clearing his throat as emotion clogged it. "It's Spencer…I kind of…" he stopped abruptly, biting the inside of his cheek to stop from saying anything without thinking. "I've got some things that I've gotta take care of," he started again after a minute, "and I think it's going to…I think it's gonna take me a little longer than I originally anticipated. I, um…I _miss_ you, JJ, and…and tell the rest of the team I miss them too. Garcia, Elle, Hotch, Gideon… _Morgan._ " He hated that it was difficult to say the older agent's name, but he forced himself to carry on. "I miss you all, a lot, but I have to do this. I don't know when I'm gonna get back…"

He paused for a moment, before deciding that he needed to be straight with her. His blue-eyed best friend, who had been a sister to him as well, deserved that much.

"I'm not even sure that I _will_ come back," he admitted, his voice pitching to a smaller, slightly vulnerable tone. "But…it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you please tell the team I said thanks for everything. Especially Morgan, for…well, _everything_. And, and please apologize to Hotch for me, for not giving him proper notice to find a replacement, since…I don't really know what the future holds for me." He sighed cavernously, his hands beginning to shake. "Don't worry about me, okay? Look after yourself, and everyone else, like you always do," he allowed a small laugh to filter into his voice, although it sounded fake even to his own ears. "I'll try to see you if everything gets sorted out, okay? Alright, well…I gotta go. Thank you for always being there for me…for being my _family_." A tear fell from his eye and he knew he had to hang up, lest he launch JJ into a full-on panic mode. "Love you," he added before he could think better of it.

He slammed down the phone just before the first choked sob ripped through his throat.

###

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed! Please leave me a review and let me know!


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